


The Spirit of Love

by anniebibananie (alindy)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Ghost Hunting, M/M, minty is main pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 11:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9722273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alindy/pseuds/anniebibananie
Summary: Monty and Clarke are convinced there's a ghost haunting their home, and they rope Miller and Bellamy in to investigate.a.k.a. the gang hunts ghosts and it basically turns into a triple date





	

“I think your next door neighbor is heading over.”

Miller perked up. “What makes you think that?” 

Bellamy smirked, not bothering to pause the video game as he nodded to his phone. “Clarke just texted saying she heard a creaking upstairs and then a clang in the basement. They’re heading over for protection.”

“Clarke Griffin did not say she needed  _ us _ for protection.” Miller finally paused the game, dropping the controller as he stood up. 

Bellamy shrugged. “She said ‘Monty is having a heart attack and needs Miller’s arms to calm his beating heart.’ So, basically the same thing.”

“Wow,” Miller replied dryly, “you guys are  _ so _ funny.”

“You’re just jealous cause she likes me more than you now.”

The doorbell saved Miller from having to respond. 

Clarke used to be just Miller’s friend; they’d bonded at the homeowner’s association meeting over shitty coffee and a shared hatred of Cage Wallace’s over-enthusiasm to control the color of every front door in the neighborhood. From then on the whole friendship had developed pretty naturally– Clarke liked to join Miller on his morning walk with his dog, Riley, and Miller listened whenever she needed to vent about a world with so much forced heterosexuality. 

Miller didn’t realize for the first few months of their friendship that the ‘entitled blonde art teacher’ who Bellamy was always taking on tours at the museum he curated at was the aforementioned blonde neighbor and newly appointed friend. 

Bellamy had come over one day to play video games and she had been sitting at the counter, sipping a coffee. After a heated fifteen minutes of argument between the two in which Miller was more confused then he dared to admit, the two stopped and laughed. And that was that, best friends. 

The doorbell rang again, and they could hear their neighbors having a conversation through the barrier. Miller opened the door and there was Monty, dressed in his typical jeans and black hoodie. Opening the door so they could slide right past him, Miller attempted to maintain his composure. 

“The ghost is back,” Monty said seriously. 

Miller rolled his eyes. “Hello to you, too.”

“This is serious, Nate. It’s trying to kill me.”

“Yea,  _ Nate _ ,” Bellamy said through a smirk, “this is  _ serious _ .”

Miller discretely flipped off his best friend after Monty brushed passed him. Closing the door behind them, he gave a brief hello nod to Clarke and ushered everyone back to the couches. 

“Henrietta is back and she’s pissed,” Monty said. 

“We don’t know that it’s Henrietta.” Miller adjusted the beanie on his head, deciding at the last minute to toss it off and onto the table. 

“I’m missing something,” Bellamy said, eyebrows pushed together. 

Clarke cleared her throat. “Monty did a Google search earlier this week and discovered our house used to be owned by a Henrietta who died in the upstairs bedroom. Henceforth, she is haunting us.”

“She died of old age,  _ peacefully _ ,” Miller reminded. 

Bellamy’s head whipped around. “Hold up, you are way too deep in this. This is what happens when I go back to my apartment? You all try to fucking Ghost Adventures your home?” 

Bellamy wasn’t  _ wrong _ , Miller was too deep into this. Or, more accurately, too deep into his feelings for Monty. 

He had moved in with Clarke three months ago, after his previous roommate, Jasper, kicked him out in favor of his girlfriend. Miller didn’t know much about him beside a random comment here or there from Clarke, so he had been bewildered the first time he showed up at his door, just a few days after moving in. 

“That house is haunted,” he had said, no introduction. Miller’s confusion must have been evident because Monty paused for a second before continuing. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t introduce myself.”

Miller nodded, and noted with amusement that he didn’t proceed to properly introduce himself. The whole thing was really too endearing, and Monty was cute. Specifically as he got more nervous, jittering and looking over his shoulder. 

“Can I come in?”

Words were still a little difficult for Miller, though that had always kind of been the case. He opened the door, shutting it quietly after Monty had slipped in. 

“Dude, you’re making me nervous.”

“Sorry,” Miller finally said. Monty looked slightly taken aback at his voice. For a moment, Miller thought he saw attraction in his eyes but he was certain he must have imagined it. “I’m Miller, and you’re Monty?”

“Shit, yea.” Monty nodded, ducking his head in embarrassment. “Lucky for you, you didn’t just let a stranger into your house. I mean, I am a stranger, but like a stranger who’s friends with one of your friends, you know?” Somehow, this had totally won Miller over. 

There was something about Monty that was unapologetic. And, in turn, it made Miller comfortable. He never asked anything from him he couldn’t give. He just liked him as he was, and Miller was grateful for it. 

The next few months continued on like that, Monty sneaking over whenever he got too frightened by the ghost he was certain lived there. Miller was pretty certain ghosts didn’t exist, but if the existence of ghosts meant that Monty came over for late breakfast on Wednesdays when they both had off of work or to watch Game of Thrones on Sunday nights, he would send the ghosts a freaking fruit basket. 

Sometimes, if he was lucky, Bellamy would be over already and Clarke would also show up. Raven, Wells, or Jasper and Maya popped up every once in awhile, too. Miller and Bellamy would cook something (they didn’t let Clarke near the stove anymore) and they’d all have dinner together. It was practically domestic, and Miller hadn’t felt so much like part of a family in what seemed like forever. Miller liked having these people in his life, whatever way he could get them. 

Which was the only reason he was entertaining  _ any  _ of this remotely. 

“No,” Bellamy said, “definitely not.”

“Come  _ on _ ,” Clarke tried. “We need to get to the bottom of this. No more ghosts, no more problems!”

“There is no way we are hunting a fucking ghost cause, here’s a shocker: ghosts. Don’t.  _ Exist.” _ Bellamy rolled his eyes, carding a hand through his hair. 

“Clarke and I are going to do it either way,” Monty said. “I was just hoping we could get some assistance with the matter.”

“We’re not  _ hunting  _ the ghost, by the way, we’re running a paranormal investigation.” Clarke crossed her arms in front of her chest, staring Bellamy down,  _ daring _ him to challenge her. 

“Oh, well as long as it’s an  _ investigation _ .”

Monty turned to Miller, looking at him with wide eyes. “Nate?”

“I’m in.” Miller ignored Bellamy glaring at him over Clarke’s head. He already knew he was pathetic. Anyways, he’d watched plenty of Ghost Adventures… he was ready for this shit. 

* * *

They’d been searching for flashlights for five minutes at Clarke and Monty’s when Raven knocked on the front door. 

Miller opened it, as Monty and Clarke had disappeared upstairs for the flashlights, and Bellamy was reluctantly, but grumpily, deleting space on his phone for the audio recordings Clarke insisted they needed. 

“I should have known you guys would be here.”

“They roped you in, too?”

Raven stepped inside and held up what looked like a walkie talkie. “I made an EMF detector.”

“You’re kidding.”

She shook her head. “Nope, if we’re going to do this, we’re doing it right.”

“Do you all  _ hear  _ yourselves?” Bellamy called from the couch. 

Raven scoffed. “So glad grandpa made an appearance. Any war stories you wanna share?”

“We found flashlights!” Monty reappeared, proudly dropping two clunky old flashlights on the coffee table. Clarke fell down onto the cushions beside Bellamy with a sigh

“Wait.” Raven paused, making sure everyone was listening. “I’m not about to get Velma-ed, am I?”

Bellamy finally looked up from his phone. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Raven motioned toward Miller and Monty. “Fred and Daphne.” She turned toward Bellamy and Clarke on the couch. “Shaggy and Scooby.”

“I’m sorry,” Bellamy said, “in the Scooby Doo scenario you think  _ Clarke and I _ are Scooby and Shaggy?”

“We can’t all be Daphne.” Monty motioned to himself, shrugging. 

“Monty’s just too pretty,” Miller agreed. 

“But you two smoke way more pot than we do!” Clarke frowned.

Raven clapped her hands. “It’s not a perfect parallel, obviously. The point is Wells is on his way, and I’m with Blake first.”

Miller noticed Clarke seemingly deflate, shaking it off in hopes that no one noticed. “I can just wait for Wells to show up.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to join me and Miller?” Monty asked. 

Miller like that Monty assumed they would team up, there was no harm in admitting that. Clarke met his eyes for a moment and he knew she understood, that the two of them were in the same boat. 

“Nah, I’ll wait,” she said. “You guys go, but we have to start turning off the lights. Henrietta needs to feel comfortable coming out.” 

“We’re really doing this? Like, sincerely, truly doing this?” Bellamy stood up, slipping his phone in the pocket. 

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Yes, we need to reach out to Henrietta and make sure she’s happy and knows we come in peace.” 

Raven grabbed his arm, tugging him toward the hall. “We’ll start on the main level.”

“Don’t forget to record!” Clarke stood up. 

“I guess that leaves the basement. Ready, Nate?”

Miller made eye contact with Clarke one more time, making sure she was ok. Her lips twisted up into a soft smile, and she shot him a nod. Grabbing a flashlight, Miller followed after Monty down into the basement. 

“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” 

“Huh?” Miller’s eyes were trained downward, trying not to trip on the stairs with the limited lighting. 

“The way they feel about each other. I mean, it’s at least obvious from the Clarke side. You’d know more from Bellamy’s point of view.”

Miller suddenly wondered if  _ his _ feelings were obvious. He kept things close to his chest, but maybe Monty knew. Maybe he was picking it up, and this was some convoluted way to tell him.

“He feels the same,” Miller said. He finally dropped off the last step. A small sliver of light came from the half window, casting a hazy glow over Monty. He was right there, staring right back at him. Miller could end it all, speak up right now, admit all the things to Monty he was afraid to admit, even to himself. 

A loud crash came from further in the basement and the two jumped. Monty reached out a hand, grasping onto Miller’s upper arm surprisingly tight. 

“Henrietta?” It was barely a whisper as it fell from Monty’s lips. The hand on Miller’s arm tightened even more, and Monty pulled him closer. He interlaced their arms, basically hugging Miller’s bicep as he directed them toward the sound. 

“Monty,” Miller whispered, “I’m black, horror movies don’t usually work out in my favor.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

“Yea,” Miller scoffed. “You look so confident clutching my arm.”

Monty shushed him, but luckily didn’t let go of his arm. It was hard for Miller to not focus on the heat he radiated beside him, the way his whole body felt electrified with him so near. 

“Henrietta,” Monty tried again, “if there’s anything you want to say, now would be a great time.” 

Another metallic clatter came and Monty screamed. A sudden rush of water hit them from above, and Miller brought his flashlight up. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Henrietta is a bitch!”

Miller rolled his eyes. “Henrietta isn’t your problem, it’s faulty plumbing. And if this frayed wiring is anything to go on…” Miller flipped the flashlight to the ground and searched. Sure enough, staring right back at them, “Mice. You guys have a mouse problem.”

Monty reached up, trying to stop the water that was still pouring from the pipe above them. He stumbled in the dark. “No, ghosts?” 

“Sorry,” Miller said with a shrug, “no ghosts.”

Giving up on the pipes, Monty slumped. He drooped his head into Miller’s chest, and Miller tried his hardest to keep his cool. 

“You’re really wet.” The words were mumbled into Miller’s chest, and Miller chuckled back. The sound rumbled through him. 

“So are you.” Miller would be happy to stay in the position forever, feeling the soft breaths against his damp shirt, but his practicality reminded him the water needed to be turned off before the whole basement flooded. “We need to turn the water off.”

Monty pulled back, nodding and disappearing, a second later the water pouring from above came to a halt. “Gotta tell the troops,” he said, leading them back up the stairs. 

As Miller emerged from the basement, the view in front of him felt much too charged. He had thought they would have to hunt the others down, still ardently looking for ghosts, but they all stood in the living room. Clarke and Bellamy were on one side of the room, arms crossed, while Wells and Raven stood on the other. 

“What happened?”

“Wells and Raven have been dating and didn’t tell us!” Clarke exclaimed, completely scandalized. 

“What the fuck have we missed now?” Miller groaned, running a hand over his face. 

“That’s not  _ quite  _ accurate,” Raven said. 

“How is it not  _ quite  _ accurate?” Clarke’s scowl deepened. 

“We were…” Raven searched for the right words, clearly struggling. 

Wells sighed beside her. “Sleeping together. It was just sex.”

“You think it’s just sex?” Raven bit her lip, turning toward him with a vulnerability on her face. “Even now?” It was clear they had forgotten others were in the room, the conversation now happening just between the two of them. 

Wells voice went soft, a smile finding his lips. “No, clearly it’s not. It never really was.”

Raven reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him soundly on the lips. Miller was happy for them, really, but he was also confused on how they could just  _ do  _ that. Here he was pining for months, and everyone else was figuring their shit out. 

“Ok, that’s actually pretty cute.” Clarke’s arms dropped to her side, smiling.

“All of this cause  _ you _ wanted to hunt a ghost,” Bellamy said grumpily. He finally turned toward the entrance from downstairs, noticing Miller and Monty for the first time. “Why are you guys soaked?”

All heads turned toward them, the moment broken. “We found the ghost,” Monty said. 

Before anyone could say anything else, a gasp coming from Clarke’s mouth in anticipation, Miller cut it off. “The ghost is your plumbing. And your mice infestation.”

Clarke deflated. “We’re going to have to hire someone for that, aren’t we?”

Miller nodded. “You won’t have running water for a while, and you need an exterminator.”

“Can I stay with you?” 

For a moment Miller thought Clarke had asked him, but then he realized she was staring straight at Bellamy. The two were intently looking at one another, and Miller couldn’t help but wonder what was running through their heads. 

“Of course, always,” Bellamy replied, slightly dumbfounded. 

“We had it wrong all along,” Monty whispered, close enough to Miller’s ear that he could feel the warm breath, “Henrietta isn’t a mean, destructive spirit. She’s a spirit of love.”

Miller chuckled. “I hate you.” 

“You fucking love me,” Monty said. 

Miller was pretty sure he wasn’t wrong. 

* * *

Miller hadn’t seen anyone for almost a week now. He saw people, of course, but not people who  _ mattered.  _ It had only taken two and a half days of Clarke and Bellamy stuck in an apartment together for them to realize when they fought what they really  _ wanted _ to be doing was making out. Wells and Raven were still in a post-feelings admittal honeymoon bubble, and Monty had decided to stay with Jasper while the house got fixed up. 

He hadn’t asked to stay with Miller, and by the time Miller got up the courage to offer it, he was already making comments about how he had texted Jasper. Jasper had missed having him around, and he had planned outings for the two of them while they got the week or so to spend with one another. 

While happy for all his friends, Miller was also not handling being alone all that well. He had gotten too used to company and noise. To coming home to find Bellamy already sitting on his couch. To Monty and Clarke banging on the door, pizza in hand. Being alone sucked. 

And instead of reaching out to let anyone know, he just stayed quiet. His friends had been working toward romantic happiness for so long he didn’t want to ruin it for them now. He could catch up on reading, it was fine. 

Saturday morning, after Miller had gone on a run with Riley all alone and was finishing his shower, the doorbell rang. Throwing on a shirt, Miller walked through the hall toward the front door.

“We were worried about you,” Clarke said the instant the door was open. She pushed past him, not even waiting for an invitation. Her hands were carrying a basket full of muffins.

“It’s true.” Bellamy entered right behind her. “She stress baked and everything.”

“Bellamy’s lying,  _ he  _ made you the muffins.  _ He  _ was stress baking.”

A smile sprung to Miller’s lips. God, he had missed them even with it being only a few days. “I appreciate it guys, but I understand. You’ve been waiting months to bang.”   


“You know… you could be banging, too.” Clarke reached out a hand, squeezing his forearm. 

“Flattered, but I’m not really into girls, Clarke. Although, I have always dreamed of having a throwdown with Bellamy.”

Bellamy threw his head back in laughter, laughing harder as Clarke slapped his arm. 

“You know that’s not what I meant!”

“Then what did you mean?” Miller asked. 

“Monty! You big, dumb idiot.”

Miller sighed. “What about him?”

“He misses you,” Bellamy said. Miller shot him a look filled with surprise and Bellamy shrugged. “It’s true, I know. He came over the other day cause he needed to talk to Clarke and she was late back from work. We talked. Who knew I was so amazing at giving advice.”

“I’ve known you my whole life, you’re horrible at giving advice.”

“You just don’t listen.”

“Said the guy who took months to admit his feelings to Clarke.”

“Ok,” Clarke intervened, holding up a hand. “You both suck. So, just listen to me. Monty likes you, and you like him. One of you just needs to tell the other that and then you can _ also _ be having amazing, mind-blowing sex. Please. We can’t keep worrying that you’re going to die here alone and Riley will eat your decaying carcass.”

Miller crossed his arms, avoiding eye contact.“Riley would never betray me like that.”

“Just talk to him, will you?” Bellamy grabbed a muffin and held it out. “And eat a goddamn muffin, why don’t you. They’re really good.”

* * *

Miller was pacing. He was pretty sure he was going to wear a hole in the carpet, but he couldn’t keep his nerves at bay. Earlier that morning he had texted Monty, confirming their Game of Thrones ‘date.’ 

**Monty:**

_ Geez, Nate, would I ever miss GOT?? Do you think I’m a savage?? _

The episode started in fifteen minutes. There was popcorn on the table, pretzel m&m’s in a bowl, and Dr. Pepper stocked in the fridge. Monty was never late, though, which meant Miller could expect him any minute.

“I brought cookies!” Monty pushed through the door, not bothering to knock. “Bellamy has been baking a lot recently? Who knew.”

A pang ran through Miller’s chest.  _ God _ , he had missed him so much and hadn’t even realized how much it truly was. Just having him near, just getting to hear his voice and see his face. It was all too much.

Monty finally looked at him. “What? Nate, you’re looking at me weird.”

“We should kiss.” Miller froze at his own words. “Fuck, that’s not exactly what I meant.”

Monty quirked his head to the side. “Is kissing all you want to do?”

“I want all of you, you and me–”

“Nate, you’re quoting The Notebook now.” Miller huffed, and Monty laughed, stepping into Miller’s space. Reaching behind him, Monty set the cookies on the sofa, and as he came back up with free hands he grabbed the sides of Miller’s face. “I’m not trying to make this hard for you.” Monty cupped his cheek, rubbing his thumb along the jaw. “I just want to make sure you love me the way I love you.”

Miller nodded. His throat was dry and the words felt stuck. Reaching forward, he eliminated the distance between them and brought their lips together. Monty’s grip on him hardened and Miller just wanted more of him, closer. Their lips moved together, sweet but longing. Too long, Miller realized, they had both wanted this. 

Breaking for a breath, Miller felt the boy’s pulse where his hand rested on Monty’s neck, foreheads leaning against each other. “I love you.”

Monty’s smile was so beaming, so brilliant, and it was something Miller never wanted to forget.

“Quick question… should we have sex now or watch the Game of Thrones finale first?” Monty whispered, biting his lip in contemplation. 

“Is it bad if I say Game of Thrones?” 

Monty smirked. “No, I was hoping that’s what you’d say. Priorities, y’know?”

Miller laughed, leaning forward for another kiss. “You’re perfect.”

“Shut up, you sap.” Monty slapped his arm jokingly, moving around Miller to plop down on the couch. “Come cuddle me, please.”

Miller happily obliged. Who knew he could be so thankful to a fake ghost of love? 


End file.
